


Snippets of Life

by Sunwhiskers



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One)
Genre: Drabbles, Gen, The Ark, oneword, oneword.com, short fiction, writing exercises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:02:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23386315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunwhiskers/pseuds/Sunwhiskers
Summary: A collection of my Transformers-related entries into oneword.com (rip the site) from 2016-17.Chapter titles are the date written and the prompt for the piece.
Kudos: 5





	1. 2016.04.27 prime

**Author's Note:**

> For those unfamiliar with the site, oneword.com is/was a site where a new word would be given daily and you have 60 seconds to write whatever you wanted. You would then post it to the day's collection for anyone to read. Thank goodness I put all my entries into my google drive a couple years ago, because the site seems to be rather spectacularly broken and the twitter hasn't been active for near 3 years.  
> Anyway, please excuse poor grammar and typos. These are unedited, as I want them to remain exactly as they were posted. I have fond memories of checking the word of the day in the computer lab of my high school and sneaking in entries during class.

The atmosphere was screaming with laserfire. The roar of jet turbines would pass every ten seconds or so, dirt and debris spraying from the desert flat as the sharp whine of null rays machine-gunned the air.

Trailbreaker threw his back against the smoking boulder, clearing his laser rifle free of excess energy with a sharp sequence of motions. He ducked his helm as the seeker trine made another pass, sand and dirt granules spraying across his structure.

The instant the static in his audial receptors faded he whipped up and around, discharging several bolts as returning fire hissed past him in all directions. He was forced to drop back into cover after a mere few seconds, the web of hostile fire too thick to risk.

A servo suddenly gripped his shoulder, and his helm snapped around to come face to face with the opaque windows of a semi.

“Trailbreaker, we need you on the defense, not the offense.”

Trailbreaker brandished a sparking, ragged hole in his left side; the corner of a small piece of circuitry was visible, warped and blackened and still sizzling faintly. Dried energon stained the edges. “Would if I could, Prime.”

The servo tightened.

A soft exhale was heard as Optimus looked up, towards the cackling silver figure glinting in the harsh, hot sunlight.

He ground his denta, concealed behind his faceplate.

“Then we’ll have to be fast.”


	2. 2016.09.26 degree

"Any progress on that AC?"

The wafting waves of heat were nearly overbearing by this point. The first hour hadn't been too terrible; the lingering effects of the then-functioning AC had been heavenly, drafting through the Ark like some beating of angel's wings. Then afternoon had rolled around, and the sun, at its highest point, was harsh and unforgiving, beaming down mercilessly on the panting trio. Ice had been brought out and house fans had been plugged in, all to little avail against the might of the sun.

Spike stood, wiping the sweat from his brow and releasing a forceful gust of air. His brows furrowed and he reached for the cup of icy water on the small table to his right.

"I'm trying, Carly. It's real fussy for some reason. Maybe Teletraan-1 is disagreeing with it for whatever reason?"

Sparkplug peered out from beneath the golden-orange console, squinting up at the younger girl practically melting in the doorway. "Optimus isn't sure either, so we'll have to just keep searching for whatever disconnect there us."

Carly sighed, fighting the urge to slump against the (certainly-blistering-hot) metal wall. "Maybe I'll just ask Bumblebee to run me out to the gas station for another ice bag..."

Spike shrugged, returning to his fiddling. "May as well."


	3. 2016.09.28 onward

(for yesterday's onward. meant to write it in school but forgot, oops)

"Do you think we'll ever get home?"

The sudden question had broken the thin sheet of silence that lay draped across the dead volcano. The desert flat below was a warm, dull color, the color of sun-baked sand.

He turned, brows furrowing in the orange light of the low, heating sun.

Bluestreak's face was a myriad of emotions, ranging from uncertain to anxious. The most prevalent one, however, was a distinct trepidation that left his tanks roiling with a sinking sensation.

Blustreak's doorwings drooped faintly as he averted his gaze from the rising sun, meeting the other's optics dead on.

"Is there even a chance?"

He sighed and shifted his stance, considering the question. His answer came with a degree of certainty such that he surprised himself.

"Of course, Bluestreak. There's always a chance that we'll get home so long as we don't give up."

A moment of silence passed, and Bluestreak tilted his helm slightly, returning his gaze to the spectacle of the sun.

"That makes sense. Thanks, Springer."

The rest of their morning routine was a comfortable silence.


	4. 2016.09.28 parking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The note in the beginning is in reference to the fact that I basically was skimming older prompts, saw "parking" from a week and a half before, had the idea and then couldn't resist writing it up and posting.

(entry for parking, 9.17.16. This idea wouldn't go away so I figured I would write it anyway, oops again)

"Okay, good, doing good, now just slowly start to back up and--brake brake BRAKE BRAKEBRAKEBRAKE--"

A dull thump echoed from the rear bumper, and Carly winced as a frustrated cry echoed from the dull green Toyota.

"Why is this at all necessary?! What proof is needed that I'm 'safe to drive'?! I'm a Cybertronian, an Autobot even, for Primus' sake! I've been driving almost my entire existence! What is there to question?!"

As she opened the passenger door to retrieve the fallen cone, Carly decided it might not have been the best plan to take Brawn with her to the BMV.


	5. 2016.10.5 slideshow

"HEY SUNNY!"

He jumped, the datapad in his hands nearly slipping as the cube resting on the small table beside him quivered with the motion. With one hand he threw up his shades and with the other he steadied himself(and the datapad) on the chair, peering at his brother in distaste.

"What the pit, Sideswipe?"

With a broad grin, the red Lamborghini struck a pose from the top of the soap-covered hill. "Watch this!"

He took a few steps back, then propelled himself forward at top speed and leaped off the hill's crest, letting out a cry of glee as he landed harshly on his chestplate and began a mad slide down the hill. Trailbreaker, who was busy helping scrub off the excess oil from the tanker truck's crash, snapped his helm upward in time to be bowled over by the laughing mech, and his own yell of surprise and indignation echoed from across the field.

They landed with a loud crash on the asphalt at the bottom of the hill, and Sideswipe's laughter was cut off with a clank of metal punching metal as indiscernible angry speech left Trailbreaker's mouth.

With a despairing sigh, Sunstreaker scowled, replacing his shades and reopening the files on his datapad.

What an idiot his brother was.


	6. 2016.10.10 bathed

"What...what is this?"

"It's a car wash. It'll get you all squeaky clean."

"I do not wish to squeak."

"It's an expression."

"It does not make much sense."

"It's...just a--"

"Wait, what are those?"

"What-"

"They are approaching quickly. Should I be concerned?"

"No, those are just--"

"Why are they hitting me repeatedly with some form of solution, I am not--"

"Prowl, those are just the--"

"I do not find this enjoyable."

"Prowl, relax, it's just soap on the--"

The Autobot jolted as the undercarriage cleaner activated, and Spike's head hit the roof with a dull thump.

"That is...most rude."

Spike didn't respond this time, clutching his head and groaning softly to himself. Why he and Carly kept insisting on taking the Autobots to experience various car-related places on earth, he had no idea.


	7. 2016.10.11 changes

Having been on earth for some time--nearing two decades now--it was easy to see that despite his best efforts, he had grown on the planet. It was, oddly enough, significantly larger than his homeworld; yet its inhabitants were much, much smaller and most delicate than any of his kind. It was an interesting fact and he found himself more interested by it than offended.

The Ark was still embedded deep into the volcano, having never budged since its crash landing millennia ago. It still served as the faithful Autobot headquarters, and it still kept them safe from their enemies as it had all those years ago.

These humans, too, were a marvel. Their culture was bizarre, and their customs odd, but in a way not so unlike their own. The way this planet teemed with organic life was both a blessing and a curse.

The sunsets, at least, were beautiful.

Mirage noted this as he leaned easily against the golden exterior of the Ark, backstruts protesting from the day's earlier Decepticon encounter. For all its faults, this planet had become like a home to him and his fellow crew.

He decided he was okay with that.


End file.
